


The One with the Peanut Butter and Unsurprising Gun Kink

by Pisces314



Series: JayTim Week-Summer [6]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Cliche fanfic moments that I'm not ashamed of, Clueless Boys, Fluff, Humor, Jason likes boys with guns, M/M, Tim is a slob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 08:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11643150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pisces314/pseuds/Pisces314
Summary: The startled way Tim’s looking at him snaps Jason out of it. He jerks his hand away from Tim’s face and stumbles back a couple steps, his hip colliding painfully with the island.“Umm thanks?” Tim’s fingers reach up to touch the spot on his lips where Jason’s hand was.“No problem.” Jason rubs his thumb along his jeans, leaving a peanut butter stain on them. The nausea has increased tenfold, making Jason worry he might be about to get a second taste of Alfred’s cookie.“Well it’s getting late so I’m gonna, ya know, bed.” Jason sets the cookie jar down on the island and all but sprints out of the kitchen.





	The One with the Peanut Butter and Unsurprising Gun Kink

**Author's Note:**

> For jayTim Week Day Six: Water Guns

“So how’s it lookin’ Alfie? Am I dying?” Jason sits on the examination table, legs swinging back and forth like he’s a kid again, just visiting the doctors. Which honestly would have been preferred to what was actually going on.

Last week some Black Mask goonies had gotten the jump on him and injected him with something using a dart gun.

And then nothing happened.

Jason thought this was a good thing but B always liked to look on the negative side of things. Emo Bastard. He seemed to think Jason’s lack of reaction to whatever was in the dart was worrisome and made Jason stay at the manor to monitor him.

Jason initially refused but then Bruce had pulled that Concerned Batdaddy face with the cowl off and everything and, dammit, Jason was starting to think that Bruce knew what that look did to his kids. So he stayed and has been staying with them for the past week, until however long it took for Bruce’s worries to subside.

It had actually been a lot less annoying than he originally thought it would be, even with him being in his old room.  His first night there he locked himself in his room, going through old boxes of his stuff Alfred had stored in the closet and only shed two very manly tears.

“You seem to be in top shape as far as I can tell, Master Jason. Are you experiencing any unusual symptoms?”

Jason pauses before answering.

“Well there was something the other night…”

***

It had been his first night at the manor, after he had gone through every item in his nostalgia closet, and had decided to get an early morning snack. He made sure to stay quiet since it was already five in the morning and probably the only time when every member of the family was likely to be asleep. That also meant he’d be able to sneak a couple of Alfred’s famous Hazelnut cookies and no one would even know.

He creeps into the kitchen and locates the cookie jar. Quickly grabbing a treat and is about to start chowing down but then-

“They taste better if you dip them in peanut butter.” Jason makes a noise embarrassingly close to a squeal as he whips around, cookie jar raised and ready for him to launch it at the owner of the voice if necessary.

Tim Drake himself is sitting on top of the counter right next to the kitchen entryway, wearing only a Star Wars t-shirt and boxers. Jason slowly lowers the jar, feeling a little silly with it raised in the air. Tim doesn’t comment on it, instead he continues spooning peanut butter out of the container he’s holding.

Jason watches as he takes an insanely large mouthful and hums around it, snapping Jason out of it when he tilts the jar toward him, wordlessly offering Jason some.

“What are you doing up at this hour anyway?” Jason asks as he dips his cookie in the offered jar.

“’M celebrating.” Tim mumbles around his mouthful. He notices Jason hasn’t taken a bite and gestures impatiently for him to do so.

“Celebrating-  _ Ohmygod this wonderful _ !” Jason moans around his newly acquired mouthful of heaven. “Celebrating what?”

Tim snorts in amusement and swallows his own mouthful before replying.

“I figured out who was behind the Reynold’s murder.”

“You did?”

“Mhm. And you’ll never guess who it was.” Tim says, waggling his spoon at Jason.

“Who was it?” Jason asks, mostly to humor the other boy. Tim doesn’t answer the moment, probably trying to build the suspense, or something.

“It was the maid.” He finally says after the dramatic pause, eyes twinkling as he leans toward Jason. “She fell in love with the wife and killed the husband in a fit of jealousy.”

“Never woulda guessed.” Jason agrees easily. He finds himself leaning forward to meet Tim, eyes drawn to a smudge on the corner of the other boys lips. Something about it makes him stomach clench, almost like he’s nauseous.

“I know right?” Tim waves his hands in what Jason thinks is an attempt to do jazz hands but it looks silly since he’s holding his spoon and his peanut butter jar.

The movement only distracts him for a moment before he’s drawn back to the smudge on Tim’s lips. Tim is quick to notice.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” He says, wiping at his cheek and missing the peanut butter by about three inches. Jason moves without thinking, bringing his hand up to Tim’s face and cupping his cheek. Tim starts, jumping and then going still when Jason swipes his thumb along his lips.

The startled way Tim’s looking at him snaps Jason out of it. He jerks his hand away from Tim’s face and stumbles back a couple steps, his back colliding painfully with the island.

“Umm thanks?” Tim’s fingers reach up to touch the spot on his lips where Jason’s hand was.

“No problem.” Jason rubs his thumb along his jeans, leaving a peanut butter stain on them. The nausea has increased tenfold, making Jason worry he might be about to get a second taste of Alfred’s cookie.

“Well it’s getting late so I’m gonna, ya know, bed.” Jason sets the cookie jar down on the island and all but sprints out of the kitchen.

***

“So what do you think that means, Alfie?”

“That you and Master Tim have developed a rather ungraceful habit of eating junk food in the middle of the night.” Alfred replies dryly.

“I meant my stomach!” Jason scoffs. “I felt like I was going to throw up all over Tim.”

“My solution would be to not eat sweets on an empty stomach anymore.”

“Okay but what if that wasn’t the only time that that’s happened recently?” Jason takes Alfred's raised eyebrow as permission to launch into his second story.

***

Jason had been taken off his patrol hiatus to help the rest of the Bat-clan deal with a series of fires that had been started by rioters. Apparently a group of people were upset with...something political that had happened. Jason had zoned out during Bruce’s explanation earlier. This was another case where he didn’t really care about the why. He zoned back in whenever B ordered Jason to meet him on the corner of Broadview and Third Street.

“Aren’t you going to say please?” He teased.

“Be here in ten.” Bruce replied gruffly before Jason heard the static click of the comm line being disconnected.

“Well aren’t you just a little ray of fucking sunshine.” Jason muttered, pulling on his hood. He made sure to get there in eight minutes, not for Bruce, but because there were lives were at stake. 

He comes to a stop beside Red Robin, purposefully bumping his shoulder against the shorter boy when he walks up to him. Tim doesn’t look up from where he’s tapping away at his tablet, but he does shift to bump Jason back.

Before they can properly greet each other, they hear the loud  **_vroom_ ** of the Batmobile’s engine, followed by B nearly running them over as he pulls up in front of them.

“Red Robin, report.” Batman commands as he marches his way over to them. Robin follows behind, even his stride makes him seem like an arrogant little shit.

“What’s up Lil Nugget?” Jason reaches out and ruffles Damian’s hair, whipping his hand back before the brat can attempt to retaliate.

“Todd.” The brat actually greets him with a slight nod, almost seeming polite. Jason lets his jaw pop open before he can stop himself. The Kents must be being a positive influence on him. Heaven knows neither one of his parents are.

“The protesters have started fires in nine different public buildings. The firemen only have enough men to put out five of them. Oracle is using security footage to guide Nightwing and Batgirl to the remaining protesters so they can be apprehended before they cause anymore damage.” Red Robin informs them like the good little soldier he is.

“That leaves the last four to us. We should each take one and get it done fast.” Robin decides, already pulling his grapple out.

Batman grips Robin’s arm before he can swing away.

“We’re going in teams of two. The buildings will be unstable and the fire can easily overwhelm you. I don’t want any of you in there alone.”

“Uh yeah there’s just one problem. I seem to have left my fire extinguisher that at home.” Jason says sarcastically. “How are we supposed to put out the fire?”

Batman just sends him that infuriating smirk in response before heading toward the Batmobile. Jason feels like it’s a dream come true when he pulls out guns. Except they look strange, too boxy and they have some sort of tube connected to where an ammo case should be. He’s also painted them black and yellow, complete with a Bat Symbol on the side. Jason shakes his head when he notices the tubes are connected to some sort of tank.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You actually have Bat Water Guns? These might just be worse than the shark repellant.” Jason says, taking the two pistols Bruce hands to him. The tank rests on his back, attached with straps to his shoulders like a backpack.

“Red Hood and I will take the library and the theatre.” Red Robin says as he takes his weapon. His is made to resemble a shotgun. Jason assumes he speaks up so quickly because he doesn’t want to get stuck with Damian and doesn’t blame him.

He starts to feel sick again when they are making their way to the library. The nausea had flared up again when Tim got on the back of his bike, after he wrapped his arms around Jason’s waist. He tries to put it in the back of his mind though, there’s more pressing matters at hand than his need to puke.

He quickly learns to love the steriodified water guns. His pistols shoot short bursts of water, quickly dissolving flames into smoke. Tim’s shotgun shoots one large blast at a time, best for dealing with the bigger groups of fire. Jason laughs as Tim’s first shot causes him to stumble backward but it doesn’t take him long after that to get the hang of it.

The first time Jason tries to crack a wise joke toward his partner, he misses a step and ends up falling through the top floor of the theatre. Other than his bruised ego, he comes out unharmed but they both avoid spending energy on useless chit chat until after they’ve put out both fires.

“I can’t believe those monsters would destroy a library like this. I mean where am I going to get a copy of Fahrenheit 451 now?” Jason looks around the ruins of one of his most favorite places in dismay.

“You could always just download them.” Tim pants from beside him. He ended up having to jump out of one of the library windows to get out before the section collapsed.

“Blasphemy,” Jason scoffs. “You can’t enjoy the story properly if you don’t have the satisfaction of actually flipping the page.”

“If you say so.” Tim agrees doubtfully. Jason turns to face him then, his words drying up when he gets a look at Tim.

Jason had always known he liked guns, liked the power and efficiency of them, but for some reason the sight of Tim actually holding a gun sent those hornets barreling through his stomach again.

Tim wasn’t even doing anything special either. Just standing there with the butt of the gun resting on his hip. His face was grimy and his hair was sticking up in a thousand different directions. Despite the queasiness in his stomach, Jason found himself unable to look away.

“What?” Tim asks when he notices Jason’s staring. He looks down at himself to try and determine what Jason could be looking at. And Jason can’t think of a logical explanation so he does the only thing that comes to mind.

He points his guns toward Tim and blasts him right in the face with a water bullet.

***

“You see Alfred? No sweets that time and I still got those weird cramps.”

“Indeed. Although it appear that this nausea could caused by certain interactions with Master Tim as opposed to being a side effect of the mysterious injection you received.”

“What?” Jason gasps. “No way. It has to have something to do with that needle that thug pricked me with.”

“So you’re telling me that you’ve never felt this nausea before this week?” Alfred raises an eyebrow at him.

Jason shakes his head, trying to maintain innocence but fails under Alfred’s less than impressed stare.

“Maybe once or twice.” He mutters, picking at a loose thread in his sleeve.

“I have no doubt.” Alfred drawls. “And I’ll consider it safe to presume, based on your level of intellect, that you figured Tim was the cause before now and you were using this check-up as an excuse to talk to someone about it?”

“Yeah.” Jason sighs giving up all pretenses. “I just don’t know what to do about it.”

“I suggest you tell him.” Alfred replies simply.

“And how well do you think that’ll go Alfie? I can’t just be like ‘Hey Tim you make me want to vomit.’ He’d punch me. Or try to at least. I’d block it.”

“I think it’d go quite well.” Alfred throws Jason a rare smile. “Considering how he told me last month that you made him feel like he was having a heart attack the first time you smiled at him.”


End file.
